


Thick as Thieves: B-Sides

by profanedaisychain



Series: Thick as Thieves [3]
Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Language, Side Stories, Thick as Thieves Series, Violence, each chapter has its own rating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profanedaisychain/pseuds/profanedaisychain
Summary: B-Sides is a collection of moments/scenes that didn't make the 'final cut' in theThick as Thievesseries. Each chapter has its own rating. Some of this will be Mature or Explicit, though, so please mind the ratings in the chapter titles.





	1. Too Much Talk (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One, in which we return to _Hook, Line, Sinker_'s eleventh chapter.
> 
> WARNINGS: Sexual Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Special thanks** to Trixxster103 for suggesting some smut -- which TAT was originally supposed to have.

* * *

"Is something the matter?"

Carmen glances up from the counter she's cleaning, caught and unsure what to do about it. She tries flippancy, offering a grin that she hopes looks natural. It doesn't feel natural, but she's usually decent at fake-it-til-you-make-it. "No! No. I was just thinking - I should probably give you a tour, right? I mean, you've seen most of the fun places, but we have a gym! And a garage -- but you saw that."

Oh God, she's rambling. She notices right as it happens, right as the pitch in her voice goes a fraction too high. "We could watch a movie?" Why is she still talking? "Not out here, obviously, because of Chase. But we could in my bedroom?" The word comes out and hangs in the air between them. "Our bedroom."

Julia's brows furrow. "Carmen, what is it?"

Carmen bites her lower lip. "I guess I never really expected any of this..." she waves her hand around, "to happen. You. Here."

"And certainly not Devineaux?"

"That is an understatement."

Julia makes a strange face, something that's still confused and concerned, but now slightly wounded. "I can have my own room if-"

_ "No, _no," Carmen shakes her head. She's ruining this. "It's not that. I'm just...new to this."

Julia doesn't say anything for a moment, focusing on finishing her pizza. Once she dusts her fingers off and wipes her mouth, she says, "We should watch a movie." She's smiling - the soft one that she uses to segue out of a corner.

Carmen lets out a little breath and nods. "Right. Um...if you want to go pick something out on the computer? I'll get the coffee."

Julia leaves the kitchen; Carmen cleans up her plate and loiters by the coffee maker, trying to get herself under control. They're alone in the house. They've been alone together before, but not like this. Not long-term. Not _ living _together.

Now they are together. Now they can be whatever they want to be. A normal couple. Well, not _ normal, _but they don't have to hide what they are. Wasn't that one of the biggest reasons Carmen never pressed for more in their relationship? Isn't that why she never pushed the boundaries?

Carmen runs a hand over her face, stifling a sigh, and prepares their coffee. Another deep breath, and then she leaves the kitchen with her shoulders relaxed and her face composed.

Everything is _ fine. _She's only had sex with one other person in her entire life, and only a handful of times, but that's okay. Nothing to be worried about. This situation - dating for months, never making it further than second-base - is totally natural.

_ Goddamn it, _ Carmen things venomously right before gliding into the bedroom, _ I should have just gone for it that night in Cuba. _

_Their last night on the island, wrapped up together on the deck, lip-locked to the sound of an angry pre-storm ocean. It wasn't the most tactful position for them to be in, seeing as Julia's mother was a window away, reading in the living area._

_Still, they were both panting and wanting nothing more than to keep going, but it just..._

_Didn't happen. A momentary break of ragged breaths somehow turned into a giggle, and then laughter, and then curling together in a silent, tight hug._

Carmen sets Julia's coffee on her side-table and climbs onto the bed. She leans over to put her own mug on her bedside. Julia is staring at the laptop's background - _ Grotte de Lascaux._ "Ever been?" Carmen asks, pleased that she sounds less awkward than she feels.

"Lascaux? No," Julia sighs, looking at the shapes of lumbering beasts with longing. "I would love to see it up close. Can you imagine how many generations added to these paintings? Ages and ages."

Her gaze shifts to Carmen. Carmen goes a little stiller; Julia's expression isn't concerned anymore - it's curious. She shifts a bit closer to Carmen, her hand gently brushing Carmen's thigh. Carmen stiffens without meaning to.

Julia very suddenly and very loudly snaps the laptop closed. Carmen jolts, surprised, but Julia doesn't apologise or explain other than a little wince. "I...have a different idea," Julia begins, voice coming out slowly, deliberately. And then she lets out a short, soft chuckle, raising up to her knees.

Carmen doesn't want to presume what the sudden resolve on Julia's face means, and Julia doesn't wait for Carmen to puzzle it out. She pushes Carmen back into the short headboard, straddling her hips with no hesitation. Julia's lips are warm and insistent; Carmen opens to them, her hands going to Julia's waist and sharply pulling her closer.

The moment Carmen's hand slips under Julia's shirt, the smaller woman moans, "There are too many clothes." She's already pulling off the borrowed shirt, shuddering in the chilly room the moment that the cloth is free.

Carmen doesn't consider herself much of a _ pervert _\- amorous attraction is a rare thing for her, after all. Even so, Carmen's eyes follow Julia's slender neck down her body, a soft breath clogging her throat as she takes in each expanse of skin, each dash of pale freckles. Many, many things pass through her mind then, and none of them are chaste

When Carmen finally remembers herself enough to meet Julia's eyes, the woman is smirking. _ Smirking. _

Julia leans down to secure another kiss; Carmen's grip slides up her back, skimming her spine, pulling her flush. This is easier. This is _ so much easier. _ When Julia is wrapped up in her arms, things aren't so confusing. The buzzing uncertainty in her head quiets.

Carmen shifts her left hip, rocking it up to toss Julia over and onto her back. The woman lets out a small squeak of protest, blinking at the ceiling and breathing heavily for a moment.

"You need to teach me how to do that," she says finally.

Carmen laughs and leans down, mouth tracing a path from lips to jaw, neck to collar bone. Her free hand runs across Julia's bared skin - she's so soft that it's nearly unbelievable - skimming her ribs and making her shudder.

"Too many clothes," Julia repeats, but it comes out breathy and overwhelmed.

Carmen bites her lower lip, trying to suppress her smile. "You sure? It almost sounded like you wanted a sparring lesson."

Julia scrunches her nose. Her voice tries to be firm, but it's wavering slightly. "If these leggings are still on in ten seconds-"

Carmen covers her mouth, tongue quieting her into moans. Her free hand glides downward, quickly worming beneath the waistband of the leggings, teasing the edge without progressing.

"Carmen," Julia rebukes, voice attempting to be firm but coming out like a whine anyway.

Carmen grins, removing her fingers, wiggling out of her tank top and tossing it aside. She's glad that she chose to forgo a bra given her fingers might be too eager, fumbling like a schoolkid.

She doesn't give Julia enough time to stare; she straddles one of the woman's thighs, pulling the leggings down just enough to get access. Julia makes a small sound in the back of her throat when Carmen's hand gently slides over her panties. Her fingers trace short paths along the cloth, feather-soft, watching while Julia arches and whimpers and reaches out for her.

Carmen dips low, her mouth dragging across the faint slope of hip to abdomen, taking her time mapping a path up the woman's belly. Julia's hands tangle in her hair, trying to speed her up, but Carmen is nothing if not stubborn.

She retreats for just a moment, stretching further up, bracing her arm beside Julia's shoulder. When her mouth returns, it's to the swell of Julia's breast, tenderly sucking her skin in, leaving soft discolourations in her wake.

But the time she moves to Julia's nipple, the woman is a shuddering mess.

"Carmen," she whines, frantically tugging at her hair, urging her upward. Carmen finally gives in and raises herself to Julia's lips. One of her fingers, slowly and methodically, slides Julia's panties to the side. The woman doesn't seem to notice, which is what Carmen hoped for.

When she finally goes in for the first direct touch, it's while Julia is in the middle of whispering in French. It breaks off into a squeak of _ merde! _ when Carmen rolls the pad of her thumb across her folds, meandering, coming to a rest on the nub between her legs.

_ "Mon Dieu," _ Julia whimpers; it sounds wrong, not exactly pleased, so Carmen pulls back a moment, meeting her eyes.

_ Trying _ to meet her eyes. Julia's are wide and staring up at the ceiling, eyelids fluttering. Carmen does an experimental rub against her clit; Julia mewls, eyes closing, hips jumping.

Carmen's pretty sure she's the one smirking now.

She nips Julia's shoulder, hand sliding the panties further aside. Her hand shifts a bit, index finger sloping down from stem to root, gently working the muscles at Julia's entrance.

_ Is this okay? _she almost asks, but she holds her tongue. It's more than okay, given the way Julia clings to her, swivelling her hips, speeding up the stimulation.

Carmen's index finger eases inside of Julia, and the woman lets out a muffled wail against Carmen's throat. The sound sends a flare of something shooting through Carmen's belly, making her exhale sharply against Julia's shoulder.

She pulls away only enough to reposition her elbow under Julia's arm. Julia curls into the new pose; Carmen's hand cradles her head while the other slowly works, learns the ridges of her body, languidly builds her up.

Julia keeps whispering in French; Carmen, for her part, is thrilled that she knows the language because some of the phrases are surprisingly dirty. They get decidedly more aggressive when Carmen's middle finger slips into her.

"_Plus fort," _she practically begs against Carmen's lips, frantically attempting to touch everything she can.

Carmen blinks, surprised, but bites her lower lip in amusement. She increases the speed, hooking her fingers against the bundle of nerves inside her lover. Julia keens and shudders, her face red and eyes imploring when she pulls back.

_ "S'il tu plait." _

Carmen covers Julia's mouth with her own, thumb rubbing her a little harder, fingertips gliding faster. It gets harder when Julia's hips begin to rock out of time, shuddering her way into different angles.

The hand on the back of Julia's head fists in her hair, keeping her a bit stiller. Julia gasps, her groans shifting, raising in pitch.

That's her cue. Carmen softly presses her mouth to Julia's cheekbone, whispering, _ "_Come for me."

Julia moans are directed to the ceiling while she comes undone; she stops tremoring after a few moments, but her muscles shudder beneath Carmen, her breath stammering.

Carmen very slowly eases her fingers free, unable to help a small tweak to Julia's nub that makes her moan again. She trails her mouth from cheekbone to jaw, down her sternum - stopping for a quick lavishing of her breasts - until she's sitting upright.

Moving off of the bed, she removes Julia's leggings and her drenched underwear. Carmen puts herself between Julia's legs in their stead. She kisses between the insides of her thighs, politely waiting for her to recover before continuing.

Julia reaches down to her after a minute, once her breath calms, and takes Carmen's chin, tilting it upward. "Come back?"

"Or I could stay here?" Carmen grins. Julia's cooling face flushes a bit at that.

"You seem eager."

"I've been eager for a while."

The flush darkens; Julia leans back, resting a forearm across her forehead. "I won't be ready for a bit yet."

"I can wait," Carmen purrs against her hipbone.

"I thought we could talk."

Carmen raises a brow even though Julia can't see it. "Do you actually want me to come up there, or are you being coy?"

No response.

"Being coy, I take it," Carmen hums, pressing a kiss to the plane of her abdomen.

"We've never discussed..." Julia's voice trails off. She raises back onto her elbows, peering down at Carmen. "Our previous relationships."

"Was I that bad that you figured out I've only been with one other person?" Carmen chuckles - she's reasonably sure she doesn't have to worry about that, but the subject is timed well enough that it makes her wonder.

"No! No, i-it's not-"

"One," Carmen repeats.

Julia nods. "Three."

Carmen doesn't know what to do with this information - honestly, she kind of assumed that prior relationships weren't worth talking about. That's probably just _her_ past relationship, though.

"Good relationships?" Carmen asks. She stops her trek down Julia's other thigh, trying to ascertain what the proper course of action is. Surely not continuing to tease her while they talk about other women? Or is this a weird foreplay she’s into?

"Yes," Julia admits with a soft smile. "Well, as good as they could be, I suppose. One from secondary school, one at university, and another during my Interpol training. She was...short-lived."

"And the others?"

"...I was engaged to one of them."

Carmen blinks, surprised. "No kidding?"

"Not at all. It did not last long."

"You were young."

"I was," she smiles, but it's faint and slightly sad. "I give my heart a little too quickly. I suppose you do, as well."

Carmen grins at that, dipping down to flick her tongue against the seam of Julia's labia. The woman jolts; Carmen purrs into the motion.

“W-when was yours?” Julia manages to get out.

"About two months before you and Devineaux caught up to me in Poitiers."

Julia's brows raise in unchecked surprise. It makes Carmen flick her tongue again just to see the expression fade and her eyes hood. “Where do you meet?” Julia tries to refocus.

"Sangalhos, Portugal. She runs a hotel there." Carmen trails her cropped nails along Julia’s thigh, making her wriggle.

_"Arreter,”_ Julia scolds - tries to scold. Her chest is beginning to rise and fall a little harder. “You are telling me about your former lover."

Carmen doesn't know what else to tell her. There isn't much. "She was interesting. Sweet. She was the first person I had any significant attraction toward, so I flirted back. And it all went from there."

"How long?"

"A week," Carmen shrugs a little, placing the gentlest nip to Julia's hip. "It was casual."

"What did she look like?"

Carmen doesn't like the path this is taking. She doesn't want to answer it. She doesn't want Julia to think about her with someone else. "I’ll tell you all about her, Jules, but right now, the only thing I want to picture is us." With that, she lowers her mouth, tongue slipping in, gently sucking the already-swollen nub.

Julia is no longer trying to talk - she sprawls onto her back, whimpering out a string of praises.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess what I'm sayin, I guess what I'm sayin  
[is I --](https://open.spotify.com/track/4R9ATNRRl1uth17i5qDCc0?si=zvHXL2WLSwaeWB9NwFMlEA)  
(explicit song)


	2. The Las Vegas Caper - 1/4 (T)

* * *

Julia can sing.

Carmen discovered this quite by accident, coming home early from a run and finding Julia in the shower.

_ Singing. _

Carmen stood in the doorway for a long time, just listening. And then, when Julia finally shut off the water and opened the glass door, Carmen simpered, "When were you going to tell me you had pipes, Jules?"

Julia flushed and argued weakly before admitting she was a chamber singer through secondary school.

Her chamber choir background comes in handy sooner than they expect. It, in fact, is the only reason Shadowsan agrees to a caper that would be best left alone.

Carmen does her best not to fidget while she looks out the massive window of their hotel room, eyes sliding up and down the sections of the Strip that she can see. Las Vegas is already growing loud and unruly even though the sun hasn't fully sunk. The aggressive street-advertisers are getting more insistent, emboldened by the oncoming dark, the oncoming drunkness, the oncoming loneliness.

Julia, poor dear that she is, made the mistake of accepting one of the cards those advertisers were handing out. She then blushed for an entire block, flustered by the card displaying a scantily-clad woman and a phone number for 'adult entertainment.'

She's so adorable that it physically hurts sometimes.

"Almost ready?" Carmen calls over her shoulder, but Julia doesn't hear her - she's too busy warming up her vocals between her makeup application.

Carmen tightens her hand on the curtain, trying to calm herself. She's always anxious before a caper - this one even more so than usual. The venue is going to be tight, crowded, and sprawling. There are over one hundred items of extreme value, and VILE might be after any one of them. Any three of them. All of them.

The unknowns are a weight around Carmen's throat - a weight that almost rivals the ostentatious, ruby-eyed albatross necklace she dons.

Julia's voice fades into a soft decrescendo; it makes goosebumps raise on Carmen's arms. Carmen turns from the window and saunters to the bathroom, leaning against the frame. "How's it going?"

Julia jumps, reddens, and mutters, "I should buy a bell for your neck so that I know when to expect a startle."

"It wouldn't be a startle if I had a bell," Carmen quips, but her eyes are taking in the dress Julia is poured into. It's tight, perfectly clinging to her body without a single crease, short, and a sparkling sapphire.

"Wow," Carmen murmurs. She can't decide if she's getting turned on because she likes the getup, or just because Julia has a tendency to do this to her. Probably the latter, now that she's noticed the sparkling bits on the front of her bodice are actual glass shards. "That looks...dangerous."

"Only when I move my arms in front of me," she laments, twisting to view the backside - or what would have been a backside if it weren't backless.

Camen bites her lower lip. Damnit, she is going to have trouble focusing tonight. They should call off the caper. They should devise a different plan, one that doesn't involve Julia in that dress, on a stage, causing a distraction.

But there's no time. The doors open in an hour for Zack and Ivy. Two for Julia. Three for Carmen.

There will be four of them inside. _ Four. _ Four isn't enough - they have over 30,000 square feet to cover. And Julia will be stage-bound for most of the event. Ivy and Zack have blending-in to do, and therefore tons of distractions...

"You have gone very quiet."

Carmen blinks out of her worries and smiles a little smile she hopes looks flippant. "It's nothing - everything will go great."

"Perhaps we should ask Shadowsan and Devineaux for support?"

"We need them outside in case VILE gets out with whatever they're after."

Julia dips her head in acknowledgement before washing her hands, leaning into the mirror to affix her contact lenses. She blinks them into a comfortable position before glancing over at Carmen. When she does, a simper slides across her face. "You flatter me, Ms Sandiego."

Carmen's still biting her lower lip, still staring. When she manages to focus enough, she realises that she's been ogling Julia's exposed legs. "You're going to get flattered a lot tonight, and definitely not just by me."

"Is that a hint of jealousy, _ ma louve?"  
_

Julia sounds a little too pleased as she steps closer, sliding her arms around Carmen's neck. Carmen tries not to cave, but she pulls Julia in and dips a kiss to her clavicle. "I can't promise I'll be able to focus on the mission if someone else touches you," she teases.

It has the desired effect even though the exaggeration is obvious; Julia purrs a little giggle, her neck heating while Carmen trails her kisses up to Julia's jaw. A hand goes to Julia's waist, to the slinky material, and tugs the cloth up.

"Carmen," Julia warns, but she doesn't sound upset by the development. "Zack and Ivy-"

"They can wait."

"Carmen Sandiego," is Julia's return chide, but she shifts a bit, aiding Carmen's hand to slide across her hip and under the bunching dress.

She barely gets her fingertips inside of Julia's panties when a knock echoes through the hotel room. Carmen groans; Julia lets out a small sigh, a wry smile tilting her lips.

Carmen departs; Julia rights her clothing.

It isn't Zack or Ivy at the door - it's much worse. Shadowsan stands there, peering at her with no expression other than slight irritation.

"Where's Chase?" Carmen immediately asks, glancing out into the hallway while Shadowsan brushes past her.

"He still watches his post."

"And you're not because..."

"I needed a moment of reprieve. His talking never ceases."

Carmen nods. "That's on-brand, yeah."

Shadowsan peers at her for a moment before saying, "I am baffled by your fashion choice. Is this...in style?"

Carmen glances down at herself. She assumes he means the necklace, but then she realises that there are nicks and tears in her crimson button-down, displaying little hints of the black bra beneath it.

"Oh, God," she groans, retreating to the closet for a new shirt. "Damnit. I really liked this shirt."

"I hesitate to ask how-" Shadowsan's voice cuts off. Carmen glances over her shoulder; Julia has come out of the bathroom, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead as she does.

"I now understand," is Shadowsan's reply. He's vaguely uncomfortable, and that makes Carmen smirk to herself. "I should go," Shadowsan continues, already moving for the door. He is almost out, but pauses, glancing back. "Be careful," he bids them before closing the door behind him.

"What happened?" Julia asks. When she notices the shirt, she winces. "I suppose this dress is a little dangerous, yes."

"I really liked this shirt," Carmen laments again, pulling a replacement button-down from the closet.

A _ black _replacement.

She isn't pleased about this development - her necklace has two substantial synthetic rubies, but she feels very naked without an expanse of red. It's silly, she supposes, but she can't help it. She tucks the shirt into her high-waisted trousers, checking herself in the floor-length mirror and frowning.

"You are supposed to blend into the crowd," Julia murmurs, joining her in front of the mirror. "Perhaps this is for the best."

"We're going to a Liberace-themed soiree. I'm fairly sure I'm not going to blend in so much as look like the wait-staff."

Julia reaches out to pull Carmen in, stops, and then chuckles. "I suppose I shouldn't try to comfort you."

"You could take the dress off first and then comfort me?" Carmen suggests.

Another knock on the door. Julia bites down a grin, and Carmen glances up at the ceiling. God, tonight is going to go so terribly wrong if she can’t focus.

Ivy and Zack have arrived, entering the room with their usual energy. "Carm, lookin' good!" Ivy praises, reaching out to undo another button so the necklace - and a decent bit of decolletage - are more visible. "There ya go."

"No red?" Zack asks, sounding confused.

"Please don't remind her," Julia sighs from where she's perched on the bed.

Bed. Julia on the bed. Shit, shit, _ shit _tonight is going to go so wrong. Carmen can't even focus long enough to complain about her previous shirt.

Ivy whistles, brows raising. “That dress is...somethin’ else.”

“No kidding,” Zack chimes, bending at the waist and peering at the glass shards. “Worst case scenario, we can throw ya at VILE and scratch 'em up?”

"Are..." Carmen clears her throat and forces her gaze away from that stupid, dangerous dress' hemline sliding up a fraction when Julia crosses her legs, "Are you guys ready?"

"Ready as we're gonna get," Ivy says at the same time Zack proclaims, "Did you know they have over _ 100 _ cars in this place? Mint, _ Hollywood-backlot _cars!" Carmen raises a brow at him; he immediately quiets, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just meant for recon purposes. Lotsa hidin' spots."

"Voices?" Carmen continues.

"Park the car in Aardvark Yard," the two recite.

"Nice," Carmen praises. "Balance?"

"Been practicin' all day." Zack straightens up, back arched a bit more than necessary. Ivy goes to the side table and removes a standard bible - a hilarious sight here in Sin City. She tosses it to Zack, who easily catches it, balances it in one palm, and does a showy spin. He catwalks for a moment before throwing the book to Ivy. His sister, likewise, displays her fluid moves, making a tight circle around Carmen without a single problem.

"You can manage a book," Julia acknowledges, "But you will be carrying glasses of champagne."

"Which is why we practised with the hotel glasses," Zack points out. "We broke most of 'em, but we figured it out by glasses 16-20."

"Oh," Carmen murmurs. She's both _ more _concerned, and also has to wonder how they managed to get so many glasses. "Maybe stick with the canapes?"

Ivy nods a little too enthusiastically. "What I was thinkin', too."

Carmen moves her cuff aside and glances at her watch. "You two should probably get over there."

"Just waitin' on the Uber," Ivy assures her. "You feelin' alright, Carm?"

"She is upset about her shirt," Julia covers. From her expression, she's realised the truth of the matter.

"Maybe if I had one of those fashion belts to break up all of this black," Carmen muses, glancing down at herself. She wears black all the time, but damn if it doesn't feel _ wrong _ right now. A slender red belt _ would _look amazing...and she does have an hour to kill after Julia heads out...

Zack's phone chimes and he perks up. "Right on time. Ya ready to be the best waiters ever to wait, sis?"

Ivy rolls her eyes to the ceiling but offers Carmen a smile and Julia a "Knock 'em dead," before leading her too-excited brother out of the room.

Carmen re-checks her watch. "We still have an hour before they expect Julia Bao."

"A little on-the-nose, isn't it?" Julia teases. “Julia Jewel?”

"You're a jazz singer, Ms Bao. On-the-nose is the only way to go. Now, if you'd like to slide out of that dress...?"

Julia scrunches her nose at Carmen. "You are incorrigible. Perhaps we should go over the plan again?"

"You're low-key enjoying torturing me, aren't you?"

"Immensely," she admits.

Goddamnit, there is no way they make it out of tonight without a million missteps. They should call it off. They should replan.

But there’s no time.

The show must go on.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pour tes lèvres  
[je laisserais ma vie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5efpcdUIDY)


	3. The Las Vegas Caper - 2/4 (T)

Carmen loves high heels. She knows she shouldn't - that they're bad for your feet and your arches and your posture and your toe-bones...but that doesn't stop her from loving them. So, when she passes one of the many shops in Ceasar's Palace's thoroughfares, she sees a pair of heels that make her stop in her tracks.

She checks her watch, and then her phone; her ride is still ten minutes away. Ten minutes is more than enough time.

When Carmen strolls out of the shop, she sports a pair of ruby-red, glossy stilettos and a matching belt to tie it together. There is nothing better for your self-esteem than a new pair of shoes, Carmen decides, heels clicking on the marbled floor.

The drive is terrible, of course. The nightlife is in full swing now, the post-dinner crowds spilling into the streets with their legal-open containers, rabble-rousing, playful.

While the driver gives her silence, Carmen focuses on centring her breathing. Tonight will end, they will thwart VILE, and then they will have three days to explore the City of Sin.

Vegas is bright and loud and gaudy. It's a marvel of architecture. It's thick with history and grandiosity. 

And Carmen really, really wants to see Lady Gaga live. 

"Have fun," the driver tells her when he comes to a stop just down the block from Liberace's Garage. The lane is backed up with limos and ostentatious vehicles waiting to pull into the overflowing lot.

"Thanks," Carmen grins, carefully navigating a crack in the pavement and sauntering up the block. She can feel eyes from the people in the vehicles following her; Carmen realises belatedly that, if VILE is in one of these cars, she's announcing herself to them before she can even attempt discretion.

But showing up in limos isn't a VILE modus operandi. 

When she enters, she takes in the entry within five seconds. There are somewhere between twenty and thirty people just in the foyer alone. There are five security guards that she can immediately spot, too. Carmen hadn't expected that, and it might make things much harder if things go south.

"This is getting more and more dicey," Carmen murmurs.

"How would you like to proceed?" Shadowsan's voice grumbles over their feed.

Carmen isn't sure. She sees Ivy slide into the room, casting a curious glance her way before asking someone if they would like a canape.

They could call in a bomb threat, she muses. They could get the place evacuated, dogs and police all over the grounds...it would be an easy thing to do. It would foil VILE's plans. "We keep going for now," Carmen says even though she isn't sure if it's the best idea. “But be ready for a call-off.” 

Carmen licks her lips but puts on a brave face, strolling through the room and into Liberace's Garage.

Julia is in front of the stage, talking with someone in a smart suit and a very official-looking earpiece. The glass shards on Julia’s dress glisten and refract, perfectly fitting in with the ostentatious glamour around them.

Julia's gaze meets hers, but the woman manages to keep her expression from shifting; her eyes continue past with only the slightest hesitation.

Carmen’s linger a little longer than that. God, that dress.

Carmen swallows down her tongue and brushes her shorter curls back from her forehead. She scans the room, shifting between small groups of people and intimate tables, a flute of untouched champagne in hand. She catches sight of Zack ghosting out of the room now that Carmen is here.

“Anyone?” Carmen asks, checking in even though she knows it’s pointless.

“Nothing odd here,” Zack murmurs, not straying from his posh accent. Probably for the best, really. “I do spy a few good gentlemen standing off on their own not far from my location.”

“You can just say not yet,” Ivy mumbles.

“Check them out from afar. Please don’t make it obvious.”

“‘Course I’m not gonna — I mean...I would never allow such a thing to happen.”

“Never talk again,” Ivy whispers.

“Children,” Carmen chides even though her lips twitch into a small grin, “remember where we are.”

“Hard not to,” Ivy replies._ “Look_ at all of this stuff. Did you see the piano? Carm, go look at that piano. It’s like...the height of obnoxious.”

“Look at the piano?” Zack retorts, some of the Boston returning to his incredulous tone. “What about that rhinestone Rolls Royce near the stage?”

“See anything particularly valuable that someone might want?” Carmen presses, slowly moving through the room. More people arrive, but Carmen’s heels are doing their job at keeping her taller than most of the others. “Maybe something shiny for the Countess?”

“From what you’ve said, I think she’s a little too classy to want a massive gem-encrusted toothpick.”

Carmen pauses. “There’s a gem-encrusted toothpick on display?”

“Probably,” is Ivy and Zack’s response.

"Heading into the other exhibit," Carmen murmurs after catching Julia's eye again. She raises a brow at the dark-haired woman. Julia offers a little smile, assuring Carmen that all is going well, and then Carmen moves on.

She recognises quite a few of the cars displayed through the secondary exhibit - some because of research, of course, but a few from actual movie knowledge. She's hardly an expert on movies or the vehicles in them, but she knows enough to admire the obnoxiously-green car from The Fast and the Furious. 

The room is filling up faster than Carmen can make her casual rounds. She's starting to lose track of newcomers, and it's making her heart speed up. "See anyone?" she check in again.

"Nothing here," Ivy replies.

"Zack?"

Silence.

Carmen takes a small breath, keeping herself composed. Everything is completely fine - he's pretending to be a waiter, and more and more people are arriving. He's probably running canapes from the catering stand to the guests like a madman.

"Ivy, do you have eyes on Zack?"

"Hold on," she replies. Carmen waits, shoes clicking as she moves further back, skirting around cars and displays and plaques of information. She pretends to sip from her glass when she notices an admirer watching her. 

She doesn't recognise the person, but she supposes that doesn't matter; she's already run into a few of the new VILE crew, and she has no doubt there are more.

"I don't like this," Carmen murmurs.

"Someone is on the roof," Devineaux's voice breaks across the line right as Carmen buzzes her concerns.

"Allow me," Shadowsan begins, but Devineaux cuts him off with - "Nonsense! You have a better vantage point if they escape. I will go."

"Be careful," Carmen bids him, hiding her lips' movements behind another fake sip of champagne. "Recon only unless you have a clear take-down, right?"

"This is not my first mission, Ms Sandiego," his haughty voice corrects her.

Carmen keeps her mouth shut and keeps walking, eyeing everything; portraits, photos, small pieces of Hollywood memorabilia, and - of course - the cars. She has no idea what would be so special about any of it. Surely Professor Maelstrom isn't interested in any of these props. He has been frivolous in the past - going after things just for the sheer chaos of it - but what could he want with any of this? 

He doesn't seem like the type to want a Fast and Furious car, anyway.

She'd be surprised if these cars even drove, let alone well enough to get out of here without a full police chase.

"Sorry, got a little distracted," Zack suddenly buzzes across the line. He's wholly dropped his elegant facade. "Turns out the bathrooms aren't gettin' hot water or ventilation, and no one here seems to realise that waiters ain't the same as maintenance."

Carmen sets her jaw, eyes scanning. "The boiler room is more than likely in a basement. Do we have a basement, Player?"

"More like a tiny storage spot, but yes," Player replies; Carmen can hear him typing and clicking away. "Boiler room is tucked under the back corner of the gallery. The ventilation system is on the roof, so that's all you, Devineaux."

"You expect me to fix the ventilation now?" he growls.

"No," Carmen interrupts, "but you have something else to look at." Carmen turns to head back into the Liberace section of the exhibit but stops in her tracks. There is a nondescript black curtain separating a small room from the rest of the gallery. 

"I might have something," Carmen murmurs, glancing around to make sure no one is watching her. As far as she can tell, she's unnoticed. Wiggling herself around the edge of the curtain, she presses through --

and directly into a pane of clear glass.

"Oww," she mumbles, rubbing her nose. When her eyes stop watering, she can see the car. It's magnificent. It's perfect. "Holy crap," she whispers. "I think I found it."

"And it is?" Shadowsan presses.

"Wet Nellie."

"Who?" Ivy and Zack ask at the same time.

Shadowsan, though, understands immediately. "The Wet Nellie?"

"She's behind a plate of reinforced plexiglass, so yeah, I'd guess it's the real deal." Carmen gently raps on the glass, moving slowly as not to disturb the curtain as she tests the glass. "We'd need tools to get through here, either through this glass, from above, or..." she pauses. "Or below."

"Le Chevre and El Topo," Shadowsan mutters.

"Does someone want to explain who the hell Nellie is?" Zack demands in a harsh whisper.

"Devineaux, how's the roof?" Carmen asks, but she gets no response. That isn't good. "Ivy, can you make it up to the roof? If you can get inside, maybe you can make sure this boat won't float."

"Boat?" Ivy questions.

"Car, boat, submarine, take your pick. It's a Bond car."

"Ahh," Ivy and Zack echo one another. Ivy adds, "I'm slippin' through the back hall - roof access is a straight-shot, right, Player?"

"You got it," Player says. He sounds worried, and Devineaux hasn't checked in. "Who's going below?"

"They cannot move the car through the main floor without substantial damage to the vehicle," Shadowsan murmurs - he sounds like he's running. "I will take the sewer entrance and circle back through there."

"The sewer?" Zack verbally flinches. "At least it isn't me, I guess?"

"Zack, get to the basement. I'm sure El Topo is working his magic down there," Carmen says, checking through a break in the curtain to ensure no one is close. Glad for her dark clothes, Carmen slips out of the space unnoticed and blends back into the crowds.

"Bad news, Carm," Zack buzzes after a moment. "Basement door's locked, and it's too thick for me to even think about bustin' in." 

"Then we need a key," Carmen mutters, chewing her lip for a moment. "I guess it's time to call in our secret weapon. Jules?"

Silence, and then Julia's voice softly murmurs, "The music organiser might have keys, but I'm not sure I can lift them."

"That's fine - distract her, and I'll do the rest."

This is where it can get tricky, though, Carmen realises as she returns to the Liberace museum. The band is setting up on the stage; Julia is expected on at any moment based on the assembling crowd.

The nicely-suited, ear-piece-wearing woman is talking with Julia, looking harried but appropriately distracted. Carmen makes a round of the room, casually slipping past the pair, deftly unclipping the retracting keychain on her belt loop just under her tailored jacket. She curls her fingers around the keys, silencing them, before departing with her prize.

"Zack, on my way," Carmen murmurs. "Thanks, Jules."

Julia doesn't answer, still talking with the woman; Zack, on the other hand - "Thank God, I really need to pee, and-"

"Hold it," Carmen orders. "Everyone check-in."

"I am descending into the sewer now," Shadowsan alerts them, sounding less enthused than before. 

Ivy is next. "Just gettin' through the roof access. It's hard to pick these locks they got around here."

Carmen swallows. "Devineaux?" Please, if there is a God, don't let him be dead.

Silence, and then a soft, "I see the Goat."

Carmen closes her eyes, glancing up at the ceiling in a silent thanks. "Ivy is on her way. Where are you?"

"He is doing something with the ventilation," Devineaux continues. "I do not know what he is attempting-"

A few things happen too quickly for Carmen to fully understand. Devineaux lets out a shout of something about gas - Ivy breaks through onto the roof, shouting something before her comm cuts off. Player cuts into the feed, hissing, "I don't have eyes on the roof, Red, you gotta-"

The band starts up in the other room; Carmen's hands are sweat-covered in less than an instant, panic spiking through her. She allows it to run its course for three seconds before bursting into action. "Zack! Status?!"

More silence. 

"Carmen, you've gotta get to one of them," Player insists.

Carmen hears Julia's voice echoing through the open, airy space of the museum rooms. It’s jazzy and smooth, completely at odds with the chaos over their comms.

Carmen begins to move, kicking off her heels and tearing for the basement. "Fire!" she roars as she goes, startling many people as she passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [helter skelter](https://open.spotify.com/track/7dbjRLY969SvR0inx3h1eP?si=jSTQbz7qRIqjRvGT9OHGbw)  



	4. The Las Vegas Caper - 3/4 (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence, injury, blood

* * *

The basement door is closed but unlocked; Carmen throws herself through it, bare feet slamming down the concrete steps. She steps on something that sends pain spiking through her, but she pushes on.

Zack is at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding from a gash to his forehead. Carmen hops over his still-breathing form, scampering toward Wet Nellie's location just above.

And there is El Topo, using a humming contraption to cut a car/boat/submarine sized hole into the basement floor. Metres of concrete are melting like butter under the thing's power, and it's terrifying enough that Carmen comes to a stop, re-formulating her course of action.

El Topo glances up and snarls at her. "And here she is - the woman of the hour."

"Hey," she returns, loosening her stance. It won't help her to lose her cool now, to strike without a plan. If she keeps talking, she might be able to come up with something. "Being a Bond villain suits you."

El Topo finishes cutting, the entire mess of floor falling out and into the sewer below. 

_ The sewer below. _

The crash of the concrete falling into the tunnel can broadcast their location to Shadowsan. All she has to do is distract El Topo for long enough - and pray that Ivy and Devineaux are doing the same with Le Chevre. 

"This could cut you through," El Topo announces, "and not even notice it met resistance."

"Sure," Carmen shrugs, moving to her left, slowly backing herself against the cold wall. "But could you do that? Really?"

"We have our mission."

Carmen nods a little. "Leave no witnesses, right?"

"You know what they will do to me if I let you go."

"Oh, I'm not asking you to let  _ me  _ go. I'm insisting that  _ you _ leave."

El Topo chuckles, but it isn't pleased. Out of all of them, he's the one who she's seen the most hesitation in. Less recently, but she remembers that first time they came face-to-face. 

She was his sister once upon a time. He was her brother.

But that was then. Now, El Topo tosses the device down and barrels toward her.

Hand-to-hand plays into his strengths...and hers. Carmen ducks under the first strike, shoving her palm against his elbow and eliciting a small grunt of pain. He falls back for only a moment before dropping his shoulder and charging.

He's faster than she remembers, and she's in flowing pantalons and a tight button-up. Not the best for fighting, especially since the trousers catch around her feet and send her sprawling. 

She misses his shoulder hit, but he steps on her foot and makes her howl in pain. The thing she stepped on earlier flares, sending cold icicles prickling through her bones. Carmen uses her other hip to slide out of the way when he reaches down for her. Her injured foot strikes out, slamming into El Topo's knee, buckling him for a moment.

A moment is all she needs. She gets to her feet, but she almost trips when her blood-coated sole slips out from under her. El Topo senses it and reaches for her, grabbing her ankle and bringing her back to the ground.

His hands grab at her shirt collar, dragging her close; he straddles her waist with no effort at all. His hands close around her throat - the thumbs don't press down, though, so Carmen wheezes and struggles, really wishing she still had a heel to stab him with. 

El Topo doesn't strangle her - he cuts off some of the airflow, but he doesn't go for the killing squeeze. He watches her, his brown eyes softening, his face contorting.

"Hesitating?" she gasps, slowly wriggling one of her fingers toward his belt. Toward the small dagger that he keeps between the seams of his suit. "What on Earth would Maelstrom think if-"

And then his thumbs  _ do _ dig in; Carmen squeaks, losing her last bit of air in a single instant. But he doesn't squeeze hard enough to tear into her oesophagus - he could do it with those hands, with that power. But he doesn't. He goes the slow route.

Almost as if he's begging her to get free.

But surely that isn't right. Surely --

Her weakening fingers find the dagger. She struggles to get it the right way, cutting her fingers as she does, but manages to slice it across his flank.

El Topo shouts and falls back. Carmen is coughing, sliding away on impossibly shaky limbs, grasping the knife in her cut fingers, gasping out harsh rasps while watching him.

El Topo doesn't move for a moment. He watches her, a hand on his bleeding side. "Go," he says - implores.

A sudden shout makes El Topo's eyes widen and switch from her to something over her shoulder. Carmen doesn’t see what he’s worried about, but she  _ does  _ see a chair come from seemingly nowhere. It hits El Topo in the head, sending him reeling and holding his forehead, cursing in Spanish. 

Zack lets out a triumphant shout from behind Carmen. "Did you see that?!" he demands to no one in particular.

Carmen's throat is still on fire - and her head reels from oxygen-loss - but she launches herself onto El Topo, slamming his head into the wall behind him. The first hit makes him slump; the second one makes him lose consciousness.

"Get something to tie him up," Carmen calls over her shoulder. 

"Where?!" 

"I don't know!" Carmen shouts back, her fingers trembling, her voice coming out like a growl. "One of the ropes from the displays upstairs? Just — get  _ something! _ " Damnit, she should have planned for this.

Well. She isn't sure how she could have planned for  _ this, _ but...

Zack runs up the steps. Carmen leans away from El Topo long enough to catch her breath. She can hear someone in the sewer below - Shadowsan.

Carmen closes her eyes when a wave of dizziness swims up. Everything is wavering. God, how long does it take to come back after nearly getting choked out?

Longer than it takes El Topo to come round, it seems, because a massive fist smacks Carmen right between her breasts, slamming into her sternum like a freight train. She lifts off of El Topo, sprawling on the floor, gasping in horror. Her lungs. Oh God, her lungs aren't taking in air.

When Carmen can finally see well enough to understand her surroundings, El Topo is gone, dropping through the hole he made. Carmen can hear Shadowsan shouting from below; she tries to make her way to the hole, but she falls short, holding her chest. 

If Topo cracked her breastbone, she's going to be  _ pissed. _

Scuffling from below - Shadowsan's footsteps tear after El Topo’s; he isn't bothering to stay quiet - there's no point now.

Carmen looks up when a hot, hissing sound comes from above her. She winces, glances up, and sees something melting through the floor above.

"Ivy! Devineaux!" Carmen shouts into her comm, frantically trying to slide out of the way. 

No one answers her, and the ground keeps crumbling.

Shit, this a terrible idea. They should have called off the mission. They should have -- 

Carmen stumbles to her feet, tripping over herself, her pants, and slipping on the blood still coming out of her foot. She's halfway to the stairs when the building shudders, the ceiling caving through - with Wet Nellie perfectly anchored to it. The flooring doesn't pass through the hole El Topo cut, though, leaving the whole mess precariously balanced in the basement.

La Chevre sits in the driver's seat of the vehicle hybrid, looking very confused and very stupid.

_ "No way," _ Carmen breathes, a disbelieving smile crossing her face."Topo  _ seriously _ messed up the hole size? Amateur hour over here, boys." Carmen retraces her steps, trying not to limp.

Le Chevre doesn't respond, but his fists clench around the steering wheel. 

"Antonio already took off, so...?" Carmen steps aside, gesturing toward the stairs. "Wanna turn yourself in now? I'd rather not fight, to be honest - I'm bleeding from the majority of my phalanges."

"I will sit right here," he returns - she can't hear him clearly, but she can follow his lips well enough. "It should not take long."

Carmen only then realises the slight haze coming from the hole in the upper floor. The acrid smell. The way her vision starts to swim all over again.

The blocked ventilation. 

Gas. 

_ Fuck. _

Carmen falls to her knees, blinking through blossoming tears. She rips her shirt's arm off and holds it to her mouth and nose, but it will only buy her seconds.

She launches herself toward the car. The passenger door opens beneath her hand without a single hitch. Le Chevre's eyes widen, obviously not expecting this, and Carmen shoves her way inside.

She's met with an elbow to her jaw; it sends lights sparking behind her eyes, but she blocks the next fumbled attack with her forearm. 

This is good. Le Chevre's arms are too long to manage in such a tight space. Carmen grabs his face and rips it toward her knee, breaking his nose and sending blood splattering across her pants and his face. Le Chevre, for his part, doesn’t let the injury distract him for long. He grabs her hair, the long curls she should have worn up, and twists. Carmen’s head yanks back, neck on full display for the knife Le Chevre produces.

The car shudders, distracting him long enough that Carmen can lash out, smacking his gushing nose with her bleeding left hand. The car rocks, and then they are falling through into the sewer.

The vehicle, still anchored by its cement-filled wheels, barely realises it fell, but Carmen certainly does. She dashes her forehead into the ill-protected, never-intended-for-impact car hood, whimpering and trying to protect her face from another attack.

But Le Chevre seems to realise he has no chance; he throws open the door and disappears into the tunnels.

Carmen blinks through spots in her vision. If she doesn’t have a concussion, she’s going to be insanely surprised. 

She isn’t sure how long it’s been - it feels like seconds, but she might have blacked out - before Shadowsan comes to her door, wrenching it open and dragging her out. “You are hurt,” he informs her.

“Looks worse than it is,” she assures him even though her face is numb and her sternum burns. “Everyone else?”

“Unclear. Stay here; I will find them.”

Carmen wants to argue - the sewer smells about how one might expect, and it isn't pleasant. But she nods anyway because she's relatively safe for the moment, and the others might not be. The nod makes her vision swim all over again, so she closes her eyes and focuses on breathing.  
  


* * *

  
She isn't sure how long she passed out for, but she does know that she has a screaming headache when she wakes. It's Shadowsan who cleans and wraps her bleeding appendages; he helps her out of the sewer and through the museum chambers, as well. Everything is crawling with police officers, so the pair stick to the shadows, skirting past unnoticed.

The sidewalk is cold and rough under her feet, but Carmen can't feel the cut anymore. She can't feel much of anything, really, until they round the block. Then she sees Ivy and Zack - stitched and bandaged - in front of a blue SUV. Devineaux and Julia are standing close together, speaking in hushed tones. 

Only then can Carmen feel something else. This time, it’s knee-weakening relief. Everyone is fine. Everything is fine.

When Julia notices her, she stops talking and starts moving toward them. She practically shoulders Shadowsan out of the way; Carmen lets herself relax a little too heavily into the smaller woman.

"You're hurt," Julia chides against her neck.

"I've had worse." Julia starts to pull away, maybe to chastise her, but Carmen murmurs, "Stay for a second?"

She does. She pushes tangled curls from Carmen's face and kisses her bruised jaw. "You are filthy...and you smell terrible," Julia informs her, but her tone is teasing.

Carmen finally retreats, forcing an exhausted smile. "Well, you're still looking gorgeous. And very, very sharp."

"Ah, yes...and I seem to have torn another of your blouses."

"You can tear it some more when we get back to the hotel."

Shadowsan clears his throat and steps away, abruptly convinced that Carmen can stand on her own. Julia, on the other hand, smacks Carmen's upper arm. "You are  _ hurt." _

"And you can nurse me back to health just fine."

"You need a hospital!"

"I would respond better to your bedside manner."

Julia's cheeks flush - because of course they do - but her smile is slightly pleased, too. "You are a terrible patient."

"Hey! Love birds! We goin' to the hospital?" Ivy calls over the sound of sirens. More ambulances arrive to tend to the gas-sick people loitering on the sidewalk.

"We'll grab another ride," Carmen replies.

Zack looks confused. "But-" Ivy rolls her eyes, elbows him in the side, and interrupts, "They're gonna do their own thing. Let's go get changed and grab a drink or two?"

"Ooh, what about the roller coaster?" Zack perks up, opening the backseat to the loitering SUV. "The one at the top of that place."

"New York, New York? How d’ya forget  _ New York, New York?" _ Ivy is saying when she follows him.

"It’s been a crazy night!"

Devineaux glances between the car and Julia, and then at Shadowsan. "Well," he begins slowly. "I suppose I am going to bed, then. I do not need a hospital, and I do not need to lose my lunch on a rollercoaster _miles_ in the air!"

"It is not miles," Julia says, furrowing her brows. "It's perhaps two-hundred feet."

"Either way!" Devineaux blusters, getting frustrated, "It is not something anyone should pay twenty-dollars to ride!"

"I think it's fifteen," Zack calls from inside the car.

"Perhaps a late dinner, then?" Shadowsan offers Devineaux - probably more to ease the man's temper. But Carmen grins a little; the pair have been on missions together, just the two of them. She's beginning to think they have some kind of camaraderie. A quiet one, of course - Shadowsan and Devineaux would have it no other way.

"We'll catch up later," Carmen says, wrapping an arm around Julia's waist - more to keep herself steady than to look suave, but she thinks she manages both reasonably well. "I need some medical attention."

Julia bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

Everyone else knows they aren't heading to a hospital - everyone aside from Zack, maybe, given his absurd level of obliviousness. 

"All I know is that people’re gonna be pissed if you cut in the roller coaster line," Ivy says, leaning through the open window.

"We'll pretend we just got married," Carmen shrugs as if it's nothing. "People in Vegas love newlyweds."

Ivy rolls her eyes, but she's grinning like mad. "Alright, ya perverts. Text us when you're done bein'...you."

Shadowsan and Devineaux have already hailed a taxi; Shadowsan seems very intent on ignoring the younger people's conversation. They depart with only the slightest of goodbyes - a grave head-bob from Shadowsan and a muttered farewell from Devineaux.

"And now we're alone," Carmen purrs.

"And you still smell terrible."

Carmen winces. Fair play.  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that bad type  
[make your mama sad type](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7nUmJWLvNA)


	5. The Las Vegas Caper - 4/4 (E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** role reversal, rough sex
> 
> **Notes:** _teases_ of future scenes from the main storyline

* * *

  
Julia glances over when the bathroom door opens, spilling steam everywhere. Carmen, freshly washed and smelling like the lemongrass-scented hotel shampoo, enters the room with a bare face. That face splits with a smirk when she notices Julia is still wearing her dress.

"There is no way that thing is comfortable enough for you to still be in it," Carmen purrs as she steps closer.

Julia - standing in front of the mirror hanging grandly over the wooden bureau - glances over with a raised brow. "It certainly is not, which is why I would love it if you could help me with the zip."

It takes all of Julia's control not to shudder when one of Carmen's bandaged hands caresses over the exposed top of her back. "Odd," Carmen hums, leaning in to press her face into Julia's neck, "I'm pretty sure you could reach this by yourself." 

"Behave," Julia chides - even though she knows Carmen can hear her pulse ricocheting all over the place. Her jugular feels fit to burst. "You are hurt. And concussed."

"I haven't been bleeding from my ears, so I'm fine," Carmen dismisses. One bandaged hand slides down and trails over her hipbone.

"And what do you plan on doing with that hand?" Julia continues, angling a bit to keep Carmen's fingers from their goal. "Those  _ hands, _ I should say. Those hands that are covered in knife wounds?"

Carmen refuses to be deterred. "Who said anything about my hands?"

"Your hand, when it started on a collision course with my hemline."

"Fair," Carmen murmurs, kissing the skin she's nuzzled against. "My rebuttal is..." Carmen's hand retreats, gripping Julia's hip instead. Her knee knocks Julia's thighs apart, sliding between, dragging the dress up until it just barely covers anything worth mentioning. "I don't need my hands."

The wooden bureau bites into her belly through the thin dress. Julia lets out a noise she'll later deny; Carmen rocks her hips, jostling Julia a bit more, thigh rubbing across the silk of Julia's panties.

"Y-you don't seem to have nearly enough concern for your injuries, Ms Sandiego," Julia says, staring holes into Carmen's reflection. She waits until Carmen looks up at meets her gaze before smiling. "Besides. I have something else in mind."

Carmen's brow begins to raise, an intrigued question in her gaze. Julia doesn't give her time to ponder it - shes uses one of Carmen's favourite moves during a fight. Julia twists an elbow around, forcing it against Carmen's side - gently, not nearly enough to injure her, just enough to get her off and away.

Julia turns, following through with the motion just as Carmen has been teaching her in their gym.  _ Always follow through. Always continue with the move - guide them, force them as far back as you need them. _

So Julia does. Carmen stumbles, thighs hitting the edge of the bed behind her. She doesn't fall, but she does look a bit stunned, which is almost as good. "What's happening?" Carmen asks, confused and amused.

Julia turns to face her fully. "Have you ever wondered what might have happened if I managed to apprehend you?"

Carmen's expression twitches a little - she looks less concerned and more amused again, the topic somehow calming her worry. "I guess I assumed it would involve restraints and questioning. Beyond that? Not really."

"Restraints," Julia repeats, taking a few steps toward Carmen. Carmen doesn't retreat, but she does tilt her head curiously, sitting on the mattress. "Certainly - we had a protocol, after all." Instead of going to Carmen, she changes course. Stepping around the bed, Julia retreats to the side table and picks up the phone. 

Carmen starts to turn around, but Julia forces every ounce of authority into her voice, snapping, "Stay where you are."

Carmen goes very still, tilting her head back to see Julia more clearly. What she sees from her upside-down perspective must assure her that everything is fine, because she returns to her flippant posture leaned out across the thick pale duvet.

"Good evening, Ms Wolfe," a voice on the other end greets. "A midnight snack for the room?"

"Yes. We would like a bottle of wine - sommelier's choice -, two bottles of water, ice, and a charcuterie board, please."

"Of course. One of our staff will see you soon."

Julia hangs up the phone, turning back to glance at Carmen. She's blase, pushing at her cuticles down with the opposite hand. She's  _ feigning  _ inattention, but her shoulders are squared, neck tense, alert, listening and waiting.

Julia moves the side table a bit, surprised by how damned heavy the thing is. But she manages it without breaking a finger, so she counts it as a win. "You are still turned around, I hope?"

"I wouldn't dream of watching you rearrange the furniture without your express permission, babe," is the reply. 

Julia bites her lower lip to keep the smile down - she's doing her best to act collected. She unhooks the phone-line from the jack, struggling a bit - it's practically lodged from aeons of being here. The wall eventually gives up its prey - as does the phone - leaving the slender grey cord in her fingers.

It isn't fancy, but it will do. Budget restraints are still restraints.

"Stay where you are," Julia orders her. Carmen's head begins to turn, eyes seeking her out, but Julia interrupts with a firm,  _ "Arrête." _

Carmen obliges, but she is getting restless. Julia slowly inhales and lifts her chin a little. With her best sway, she returns to Carmen's line of sight, holding the cord. "Hands."

One of Carmen's canine teeth comes down on her lower lip, eyes sparkling. "Ms Argent, you surprise me."

_ "Agent _ Argent."

Carmen's brows raise, and her smile widens. "Of course - where are my manners?  _ Agent _ Argent."

Julia, weirdly, misses hearing the  _ agent  _ bit. It's been quite a while since her time with Interpol and ACME, but the joy of detecting... It's hard to forget.

Julia, arranging the cord, lines up her wrists with the middle. That is when Carmen strikes.

Just as the line begins to loop around Carmen's left wrist, she twists aside. Her right shoulder checks Julia's ribs, sending her onto her backside on the floor. Julia huffs out a breath, annoyed beyond reason - and a little dizzy.

Carmen lowers herself onto Julia's hips, but Julia's arm slides between their bodies before Carmen can seat herself. Julia uses that arm, hooking it beneath Carmen's leg, tossing it up and over. The redhead upends, unable to stop some giggles from bubbling out of her mouth.

"Are you trying to make sure that I  _ do _ have a head injury?" she teases, moving to get up. But Julia doesn't want her to get up.

Julia grabs her ankle, tugging her back to the floor. Carmen's leg tenses as if it might lash out - a perfect hit to Julia's nose, a fight-response that Julia somehow hasn't considered. But Carmen's muscle memory doesn't kick in, and her foot doesn't slam into Julia's face.

Instead, she turns over, rocking from one hip to the other, breaking her ankle free from Julia's grip. She's up in a crouch, but she's favouring her injured foot.

Julia reaches out and grabs it, pulls it out from under her, and uses the momentum to drag Carmen closer. The cord loops around Carmen's wrists; the woman gives a precursory wiggle in place of a struggle, trying to bite down on her grin the entire time.

"I hope you have another cord for my ankles," Carmen kids, wet strands of auburn hair twisting around her face, darkening the cerulean carpeting. "I'm pretty good at running with tied hands."

"I am sure you are," Julia replies, yanking the end of the tie. "Get up."

Carmen is looking more and more like a littlie on a snow-day. The reaction helps Julia fight back her uncertainty - fight back a fraction of her hands' trembling. This type of thing is more Carmen's game, not hers. Julia doesn't do things like this. Not so spontaneously. Not without meticulous planning, and waiting for the right moment, and --

But Dr Singh said something about changing things up all those months ago, right? Role reversals? She probably didn't mean  _ this, _ of course, but...

Julia tugs Carmen up even though the woman is already getting to her feet, more than willing to go along with whatever is happening. She tosses her toward the bed - Carmen goes, pretending to get tripped up, making a grand show of sprawling all over the comforter. 

Julia breaks, a small snort bursting past her nose. It turns into a few chuckles, but she covers her mouth to stifle them. Carmen is absurd - more absurd than she imagines anyone else knows. She's sweet and accommodating and just...

_ Absurd, _ Julia decides on. Not perfect by any stretch of the word. But she's still a fun-loving imbecile, the person who can make Julia open up a bit, who can instil some confidence. 

And the thrill-seeking badass with little regard for her own safety.

Remembering that, remembering Shadowsan finding her outside of the party they crashed, saying Carmen was injured makes Julia re-focus. She stalks across the small room; she takes the end of the telephone cord and ties it off to the side-table's drawer handle. And then she pulls on Carmen's hip, twisting her to face her.

"You are a reckless idiot, Ms Sandiego, and I am done with it."

Carmen's amusement is shifting to concern again. "Jules?"

Julia reaches over, grabbing Carmen's chin, pulling her head up to lock eyes. Julia leans in close, tightening her grip on Carmen's jaw. "You are. A reckless. Idiot."

Carmen winces at the added pressure. "Yeah, I got that part. I'm more worried about the next bit."

"I will ensure that you stop throwing yourself head-long into danger, even if it is the last thing I do in this world." 

"Are you…" Carmen pauses. "Are you going to tie me up and leave me here until I behave? Because I have to admit - this cord is doing next-to-nothing to keep me here."

Julia almost breaks again. Damn Carmen's ability to make her smile. Instead, she lets her hand skim from chin to throat, tightening. Carmen's eyes widen.

There it is - the surprise that Julia's been looking for. She slides onto the bed, shifting over Carmen's hip to get behind her. Julia's fingers leave her neck only long enough to reposition. To hook an arm under Carmen's head, cradling it. Julia's hand returns to its place on the frantically-beating throat, gently tightening.

"Remember New York?" Julia begins. Her free hand goes to the exposed line of Carmen's waist, tee riding up from the heavily-exaggerated tussle. "Or England? Or Uruguay? Canada?" Camen's pulse is quickening even though she's obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. With the reminder of each injury that she's endured since Julia joined the team.

The hand on Carmen's waist slips under the legging's hem, the silky boyshort underwear. Carmen's hips buck against Julia's hand - Julia stiffens her grip on Carmen's throat, a warning, and Carmen whimpers. Actually  _ whimpers. _

Julia didn't expect her to go to putty so quickly - to give up her dominance, her ever-growing need to take control of each situation. But here she is, tensed but not uncomfortable as Julia expected.

_ Interesting. _

Julia slides a finger down, gliding across the slickness that's already forming, toying a careless finger across her clit. "What about Singapore?"

"You know those-"

A firm thrust shoves Julia's seeking finger past Carmen's entrance, eliciting a half-excited, half-pained gasp. "Think about this like an interrogation, Ms Sandiego. Don't speak until you're spoken to."

Carmen swallows; Julia's finger forces itself further, roughly gliding, harshly teasing another finger around the entrance, the muscles pulsing beneath her. "Or Dubai. Or Guyana. How about the Dominican Republic?"

"Jules-"

Julia tightens - Carmen wheezes. Julia lets up on the pressure, concerned that she's gone too far. But Carmen, in spite of the ragged edge to her voice, rocks her hips into Julia's fingers, spurring her on.

But Julia isn't done. Not yet. "Or Poland."

Another deep swallow from Carmen. "That's not fair! I-"

Julia shoves her second finger in, knowing it's going to hurt. When Carmen tries to shout, Julia tightens the grip again. "And now this. And now Las Vegas - a mission we should have never taken. A mission that you insisted we do because, and I am quoting -  _ Julia can be the perfect distraction! We'll be in and out, and VILE won't know what hit them. _ "

Carmen doesn't speak, but her throat is trembling with groans at each drive of Julia's fingers, each rub to her clit. "You made Shadowsan agree. You pulled rank.  _ Until the end of the line,  _ as you like to keep reminding him. And then you got hurt. You forced Shadowsan to find me and tell me you were  _ unconscious  _ in a  _ sewer  _ with possibly-broken ribs."

"They weren't bro-"

_ "That doesn't matter," _ Julia interrupts, both thumbs pressing into their respective places. Carmen arches and gasps through a restricted airway. "Because you, Ms Sandiego, cannot help yourself. If they are not broken now, they will be on the next caper. Or the one after. Or one three years from now, because you keep acting like an imbecile  _ and VILE keeps exploiting it." _

Her fingers pick up their pace, matching Carmen's heartbeat thundering under Julia's other hand. She curls her fingers at a cruel angle - Carmen hisses, squirms, wheezes when she accidentally shoves her throat into the thumb even harder.

Based on her growing cries, she's getting close. Julia moves her hand from Carmen's throat and vices over her mouth, muffling the noise. "You are going to start listening to our concerns, Ms Sandiego. You are going to accept our concerns, and you are  _ not  _ going to coerce Shadowsan behind the group's back."

Julia leans in, whispering, "Nod if you understand."

Carmen nods, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks flushed with breathlessness. The motion is frantic, imploring, begging.

A knock on the door stops Julia's hand and stammers Carmen's thrashing. The room service.  _ Goddamnit,  _ the room service.

Julia nips Carmen's earlobe, sharper than she intends, and Carmen shouts against her fingers. "You have a time limit now,  _ ma louve."  _ Her fingers redouble their efforts, and Carmen helplessly moans against the hand on her mouth.

Another knock, but this one only serves to make Carmen whimper more, hips stuttering. Julia goes for the kill, thumb rubbing across Carmen's clit and sending her over the edge, muffled but shouting, eyes clenched tight, body quaking.

A third knock - this one louder, more insistent. Julia removes her hand from Carmen's mouth and slides off of the bed, opening the door while smoothing down her rumpled dress. "Sorry, I was on the phone," Julia chirps. She doesn't have to see herself to know that it's quite clear she was  _ not  _ on the phone. 

The man delivering their room service only smiles, nonplussed. He's probably seen some shit, so Julia decides to hand the tip over and take the cart from him at the door. She doesn't really want Carmen - her wrists bound in telephone wire - to be one of the things he adds to his  _ weird-shit _ repetiteur. 

Carmen is still on the bed, but she has untied herself. She is sitting up, blinking at the wall, seemingly bewildered. She turns her gaze to Julia, not even noticing the cart. "Holy shit."

Julia snorts, undressing to her underwear - the zip, of course, was very reachable - and slides onto the bed. She draws Carmen against her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Where did  _ that  _ come from?" Carmen asks, grinning, face turning to catch a kiss.

"From  _ overwhelming  _ frustration," Julia murmurs, a hand smoothing over Carmen's back. "I am serious about what I said." Carmen nods, but Julia continues, "You promised to make some concessions."

"I did promise that, didn't I?" Carmen looks down at her fingers; the digits aren't restless anymore, languid and unmoving. "And I'm sorry. It's hard...giving up all the control."

Julia lays down, tugging Carmen's shirt to pull the woman along with her. Carmen curls into her, tucking her face under Julia's chin. "I understand. It does not mean  _ I _ won't decide to pull rank if you forget again, however."

Carmen snorts, snuggling in as if trying to enter Julia's skin with her. "You could probably get me to agree to anything right now - might as well test out that rank-pulling."

"Well," Julia hums, finger toying with the back of Carmen's shirt. "As your partner in sort-of-crime, I request that you not be upset when you see the state of your shirt."

Carmen twitches as if she might turn to look at what Julia's fiddling with, but gives up in a millisecond, returning to her resting spot. "Your dress tore the hell out of it, I assume?"

"I am afraid so, yes."

Carmen is quiet for a moment before shrugging. "It's just my favourite pyjama shirt. No big."

Julia blinks at that. She needs to get aggressive more often if it soothes Carmen so thoroughly. 

Julia bites her lower lip to contain the smile, smoothing her hand through Carmen's hair. The small, ruby-studded black band on her ring finger glints prettily against the auburn.   
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [what I would do to get into your head](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94R_hUnQZg0)


	6. Board Games (T)

* * *

Julia is on her third glass of wine on a mostly-empty-stomach, so her brain isn't entirely _ with it _ when Zack and Ivy interrupt the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. 

_ ('Boring as usual' _ was Carmen's take when she found Julia and Shadowsan sitting together on the couch, watching it with - in Julia's case - glassy eyes. 

"Maybe it's because I'm not from here, but I don't really get the point of the balloons," Carmen murmured, depositing a kiss to Julia's cheek. She breezed back out before Julia could inform her that _ actually _the parade is steeped in tradition dating back to the 1920s. The balloons - at first small ones in the Macy's store window displays - replaced the live animals they used to use for crowd-entertainment.)

But now Ivy and Zack are blocking the television; Zack is holding a precarious pile of tabletop games while Ivy proclaims, "Pick your poison! The first annual Thanksgiving-Day-Game-Off is about to begin!"

"Hey!" Carmen calls from the kitchen, "Wait for me!"

"Hurry it up then!" Zack calls back, nearly knocking the top box off of the stack - the top box happens to be Jenga, ironically enough.

Julia sits forward a bit, trying to read the boxes while Zack wobbles them around. Shadowsan, it seems, is having a similar problem. "Perhaps if you set the games down instead of dancing in place with them?" he grumbles, tilting his head a bit to see the television around Ivy's hip.

"That's why we keep ya around, Sanny," Ivy says with a little grin, but it wilts almost immediately. _ "Nuts. _Sanny is a terrible nickname, too. Why's it so hard to come up with somethin' to call ya?"

"It is not. You may call me Shadowsan."

Zack manages to sit cross-legged, still holding the boxes, and then deposits them onto the floor beside him. "Somebody needs to-"

Carmen is back, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She leans over the back of the couch to peer at the boxes. "Where did you get all of these?"

"The used game shop that opened up," Zack says, preening. "Told ya twenty bucks would go a long way."

"Yeah, 'cause all'a these games are probably older than Shadowsan," Ivy adds in a poorly-contained undertone. Julia glances at Shadowsan through her peripheral - his lips purse, but he sips his tea and stares at the stretch of television he can see, impassive.

"Perhaps-" Julia begins, but a strange noise comes from the back of Carmen’s throat, making her lose her train of thought. 

"Is that Monopoly?"

Zack glances at the stack and then back at Carmen. "Yeah…?"

Carmen's face falls. _ "Why, _ though?"

Ivy shrugs. "The games were a package deal, Carm, not sure what to tell ya."

"We could burn it in the bonfire tonight?" Zack suggests, with a little too much excitement.

Carmen is actually considering it based on her expression, so Julia intervenes. "Or we could donate it?"

"And risk someone else being subjected to a game that puts profit above all else? The game that is _ literally _a social commentary on how dangerous unchecked capitalism can become? And how monopolies are actually ruining-" Carmen cuts herself off, seemingly realising the horrifying rabbit-hole she is falling into. "Aaand, this is where I duck out for a few minutes to reacquaint myself with holiday cheer." 

"Just checkin' - that's a _ no _to Monopoly?" Zack asks even while Carmen glides out of the room.

"I'd say that’s a resoundin’ no," Ivy dryly replies, reaching for the box and skidding it across the floor and out of the way. "Pick somethin' else."

"H-hold on. Just to be _ sure _..." Zack continues, "we get to burn it in the bonfire, right?"

Ivy smacks the back of Zack's head; Shadowsan - without looking away from his tea or the television - grumbles a stern, "Children." They both go still, actually seeming chastised.

Julia suddenly can't stop smiling.

* * *

Devineaux returns from his quest to find a liquor store that was both open _ and _selling his favourite whiskey. 

(_ I did not understand the importance of this day! _Devineaux argued when Carmen chastised him for going into a store on a day that 'no one should have to work.')

The group is deep in a game of Risk when Devineaux comes into the living room with a tumbler of liquor. He takes one look at the board and sours. _ “Zut! _ Had I known we would play Risk-”

“Please, for the love of God, take my spot,” Carmen interjects, more than happy to leap off of the couch. “This game is almost as insufferable as Monopoly.”

"Does that mean we get to burn this one, too?" Zack asked her already-retreating back.

Devineaux takes Carmen's place and, in turn, manages to win by a strategy that can only be called _ screwing the ever-living hell out of everyone else. _

Carmen returns to the group when Jenga comes out of its box, already precariously leaning. Zack loses two games, and - to everyone's surprise - Carmen loses the next. 

Shadowsan narrows his eyes at her. "You can pick a stamp from a pocket without anyone noticing."

Carmen shrugs. "Guess it's this whiskey."

"It is the best whiskey in the world," Devineaux says from where he has melted into the corner of the couch. He's red-cheeked and one glass ahead of Carmen. When she leans over to clink their tumblers together, Julia finds herself grinning.

At the warmth in the room. How Shadowsan pretends to be weary amid the siblings' antics. How the siblings know he's their ever-watching audience and, in turn, perform for him with quips and banter. How Devineaux is listening to Carmen tell him about a whiskey she once had that tasted like butterscotch pudding. _ Non! _ he proclaims, leaning toward her. _ Where? We must have it now. _

How Carmen laughs and how she tosses her bangs from her eyes. How she crosses her legs, how she melts into the red leather as if she is a part of it.

At the feeling in Julia's own chest - the affection. The comfort. The absolute ease. Today, nothing else matters - nothing else aside from these people around her.

Julia reaches across the couch and takes Devineaux's tumbler from him, sampling the whiskey before handing it back with a face. "I have no idea how you drink that."

"Whiskey is a grown man's drink," Devineaux tells her as if it's a fact written somewhere.

Carmen raises a brow at him, smirks, and then sips her own drink. "We should start that fire."

"It is still light out," Shadowsan murmurs.

Carmen shrugs. "Yeah, but I feel like setting a monopoly on fire."

_ "_Risk?" Zack asks, hopeful.

"Sure,” Carmen says.

"No!" Devineaux exclaims at the same time.

At Devineaux's reaction, Carmen softens, teasing, "Fine. We'll wait until Chase passes out from too much alcohol and turkey."

* * *

The six of them gather around a definitely-illegal firepit they put on the other side of the pavement. Sitting on the cement lip, looking down on the crackling fire, should be silly. Uncomfortable. Boring. But they sit together - quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Content.

"I wish Player was here," Ivy suddenly says.

"Yeah," Zack echoes. "He's got his bio-fam, though, so I guess it's alright."

"I wish my mother were here," Julia says without meaning to. She tries not to think of her mother often, but it's impossible. 

Carmen’s arm wraps around Julia’s back, pulling her into a half-hug. Julia smiles a little, something sad and accepting, before taking the mostly-empty glass from Carmen. She finishes the whiskey, winces, and then hands it back.

Carmen doesn't add a name to the list of missing loved ones. Likewise, Devineax and Shadowsan remain quiet. 

Julia swallows down the sudden emotion clogging her throat. They don't have anyone else - their entire family consists of those around them. It's bittersweet, and Julia doesn't know what to do with it.

"I wish we had butterscotch whiskey," Devineaux offers finally. Carmen snorts out a laugh, and the melancholy breaks like a wave. 

"Right-o! Let's get to the main event!" Ivy proclaims. "Chase, wanna grab our sacrifice from the living room?"

Devineaux retreats, taking his and Carmen's glasses with him. When he returns, it is with two games.

"Are ya sure?" Zack asks when Devineaux hands Risk to him. "I mean...ya kinda made a whole _ thing _outta it."

"I did not make a _ thing _out of anything!" Devineaux retorts, sounding affronted. "And besides! No one else would play against me now that you know my superiority at tactical warfare."

"Mmhmm, sure," Ivy drawls with a little smile, grabbing the Monopoly box and tossing it into the flames. 

It catches and curls in on itself - an acrid smell rises, making all of them recoil. Julia winces, eyes itchy from the smoke. 

"Maybe burnin' old board games wasn't the smartest idea we've ever had?" Ivy groans, covering her nose with a hand.

"You do not say," Shadowsan murmurs from where he sits.

"Not helpin’, Sanny,” Ivy moans, exasperated. “What d’we do now? Fire extinguisher, or just let it burn?" 

Carmen leans her head onto Shadowsan's shoulder, unconcerned. "We could just watch it and hope it doesn't explode or poison us."

Devineaux nods and then shrugs, tossing Risk onto the fire, as well. "We might as well make a _ thing _of it."

* * *


	7. 1AM, before (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seven, in which we travel back in time. Oh, and also lots of pining from two sad wlw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS - increased rating due to marijuana use. I have no idea if that's even something I need to rate-up for 🙃 but might as well cover my ass, right?

* * *

Carmen stares up at the sky, at where the stars should be. Her frown deepens when all she can see are smoky wisps of nighttime clouds.

This is what she hates about cities - you can’t see the stars. Even here, so close to the ocean, to uninterrupted darkness, the port pollutes it all.

She lets out a little breath and sits up, wincing slightly at the pain. It’s only been a month since her near-death experience in Sweden, but it feels like years. In her more maudlin moments, she’s thought about taking off - just walking out of the warehouse and wandering. Leaving all of this behind. Leaving the siblings behind. Shadowsan. VILE and ACME.

Let it all burn.

But that’s not her - those were the painkillers. That’s what she tells herself, anyway. Now that she isn’t taking the bitter pills, she’s found renewed focus. She can’t leave San Diego yet, but that doesn’t mean she can’t help Player and act as mission control when Shadowsan is out of the country.

It isn’t enough, but it’s something. Until Carmen can prove herself in the gym, the others aren’t about to let her get back into the thick of things. She understands this in the logical part of her brain, but the other part -the one that rushes headlong into things- wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and hop onto the next flight out of San Diego International.

Carmen starts a little when she sees headlights turning off of the street and into the parking lot outside of the warehouse. The car doesn’t park there, though, instead swinging around the back. Carmen listens while Ivy gets out of the car to open the loading bay before driving in.

Getting to her feet with slightly more difficulty than she likes, Carmen plods over to the roof access hatch, opens it, and takes the stairs down to the second-storey landing. She descends to the main floor of the warehouse; Shadowsan is in Istanbul; Zack must be sleeping, given that there isn’t music spilling through the space.

That’s good, though, because Ivy is the person Carmen wants to talk to.

Ivy opens the door leading from the garage to the living space, letting out a shout and dropping a bag in surprise when she sees Carmen waiting for her. “Jesus, Carm!” she exclaims, her hand to her chest. “You about gave me a heart attack! What’re you lurkin' around for?”

“I was up on the roof; I saw you come back, so I thought I’d say hi.”

Ivy’s lips tug into a small smirk as she bends over to grab the bag. “Good thing you’re up, or else you wouldn’t get to partake.”

“Partake?” Carmen repeats, instantly intrigued.

“Yep” is Ivy’s coy reply as she steps past Carmen, heading for the stairs.

Much to Carmen’s surprise, Ivy is leading her back to the roof. She isn't about to complain, though. The night is warm, and fresh air is a God-send when cooped up for ages. 

Plus, she desperately needs someone to talk to tonight. Maybe not about what's actually_ bothering_ her, but it doesn't matter. She needs a friend, and Ivy is one of the best she's ever known.

Ivy goes straight for the edge of the roof, hanging her feet over the edge. Carmen follows without thinking - she's fallen off of higher roofs than this, after all.

Once she's settled, she glances over at Ivy. The redhead is fiddling around in the bag before procuring a small tin and a lighter.

"Ivy!" Carmen mock-scolds her when she realises what's happening. A new marijuana dispensary opened not too far away, and evidently Ivy went to check it out. "Shadowsan will kill you."

"Good thing Shaddy's halfway 'round the world, then," she shrugs, her mischievous grin and wink making Carmen snort out a laugh. But then Ivy groans. "We really gotta find a nickname for him. It's gettin' absurd how hard it is."

Carmen's smile softens at Ivy's openness, her unflappability. She sees a problem, and then she works and works and _ works _to fix it. There is always a proper solution, always a correct answer, always a perfect nickname...if you look hard enough.

Ivy opens the tin and places one of the slender joints to her lips, flicking the lighter. The flame makes shadows dance across Ivy's face. Makes her hair glitter with gold-dust. Makes her freckles turn into inky splotches.

Carmen glances away, looking out over the port. It's not nearly as busy as usual, but there are still some people loading and unloading, scurrying along the dock like spiders. She watches them instead of Ivy, very aware of how quiet it is. How still.

"Want?"

Carmen blinks, not understanding at first. But then she takes the offered joint, glancing at the smouldering tip, the slow-spreading burn.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Carmen asks before taking a pull. She coughs a little, losing most of the smoke before it hits her lungs. A second pull -this time successful- then Carmen hands it back.

"You can talk to me 'bout anything," Ivy laughs, sounding a bit confused. Why would Carmen even need to ask?

Because it's personal and raw - and for some reason, it doesn't feel like she should talk to Ivy about it.

But who else does she have? Player is terrific, but Carmen isn't about to lay this on his underage shoulders. Zack is Zack. And Shadowsan...

Is Shadowsan.

"I can't stop thinking about her," Carmen blurts. The words fall out of her mouth and flop around between them. It's uncomfortable as hell, and Ivy is staring at her, eyes wide and…

Wary? Does Ivy look...wary?

Ivy chuckles, the sound a little stilted. She takes a few puffs, the weed smoke -slightly sweet, slightly musky- whips away on a strong breeze from the bay. "Which of your girlfriends is on your mind today?"

It's a joke - one that Carmen flushes at anytime the siblings tease her about it.

About Julia.

About the only person who they've ever seen ensnare Carmen's romantic interest. And doing so just from one rushed conversation during the middle of a mission? The siblings had a field day with that one.

Maybe rightly so because -even during the caper, even while facing off against Paper Star- one random thought clung in the back of Carmen's mind the entire time they were in India.

_ Man, that girl was cute_.

But it's different now. Carmen isn't supposed to want to see Jules. _ Julia,_ Carmen corrects, valiantly attempting to loosen her fondness for the raven-haired woman.

The joint passes between them for a bit longer before Ivy clears her throat and angles her body a bit to meet Carmen's eyes. "Look, Carm, I dunno why you're fixated on her, but I _ do _ know you're smart. You don't attach yourself to the bad kinda people, y'know? I just think…" She trails off, glancing out toward the dock.

Carmen waits, taking small puffs, her shoulders slowly loosening. A tension in her lower back that she hasn't been able to work out is relaxing. Everything feels quiet against her skin. Everything feels...okay.

It's okay.

"I don't get why," Carmen murmurs. She passes the joint to Ivy, absently picking at a frayed end of her jogging shorts. "Why can't I shut her out?"

Ivy thinks about it for a moment, exhaling smoke in a slender, slow stream. She opens her mouth as if she's about to share some cosmic insight.

But instead, a laugh fills the air. Sweet with a little edge. Something sharp. Maybe it's just the smoke scratching her throat. Maybe there's a deeper reason.

"God, Carm."

Carmen raises a brow, confused. "What did I do?"

"You're bein' thick," is Ivy's response. Smug, but something else, too - something Carmen can't understand. "Ya can't just _ forget about her. _That's not how this stuff works."

"What stuff?"

Ivy rolls her eyes, taking the forgotten joint from Carmen's fingers. She finishes it, stamps the tip into ash, and then wipes her hands down her jeans. "Love."

Carmen starts to sputter, alarm bells tearing themselves through her brain. No. _Nonono, _love isn't something Carmen wants. Not _ romantic _love. Not something that can suck her in, pull her down, trap her.

Ivy raises a brow at Carmen, daring her to deny it. Carmen doesn't, even though she desperately wants Ivy to be wrong.

Falling in love? Stupid. Falling in love with someone intent on putting you in jail? So, _ so _much worse.

"She said she was on our side," Carmen mumbles. "And then ACME ambushed me."

"She said she didn't know it was gonna happen."

"I know."

"Do ya believe her?"

Carmen hesitates. She closes her eyes and breathes in, deep and slow. The sound of people at the port rings through the air like distant chimes. Things clatter. People curse.

Life.

_ Do I believe Jules?_

"I think I do."

"Do ya _trust_ her?"

"...I don't think I have a choice."

Ivy's smile is more pained than anything else. Carmen wonders if she understands this predicament intimately. If she's felt so much _ -too much_\- for someone she wasn't supposed to, unable to fight it off or forget it.

"What do I do?" Carmen asks.

Ivy lets out a soft sigh. "Not sure, boss. If I figure it out, you'll be the first to know."

And then she's on her feet, stretching, her mop of unruly red hair swinging as she does. "Welp," she announces with a smile that tilts her lips into a wry smirk, "I'm buzzin' and _ starvin’._ Want pizza?"

Carmen glances at the time on her phone. "It's one in the morning."

"Yeah, which means we don't have to share with Zack."

That's a fair argument. "Sure. I'll be down soon."

Ivy stares at her for a little longer than necessary before nodding. "Take your time, Carmen."

It’s strange to hear her full name come out of Ivy’s mouth, especially said so softly. There's an emotion there that doesn't fit into Carmen's ideas about Ivy. It's something that makes her pause, her brain trying to make connections.

But she's high, and indica strains always make her think things have more hidden meanings than they do. So Carmen lets it go, gently kicking her feet against the brick warehouse.

She looks out over the bay and wishes she had Julia's number.

It'd be a dumb thing to call her, but that doesn't make it any less tempting.

Carmen wastes a few moments thinking about what she'd say, and then pulls herself from the rooftop. It's hard to think about a conversation she'll never be able to have anyway, so she goes downstairs to split a beer with Ivy and wait for the pizza.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's just let it go  
[let me let you go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6WNdcZpDhQ)


End file.
